Page 166 of Stop and Seek
The whole place smelled like detergent and disinfectant. Covers perfectly lined up. Pillows fluffed. There was even a plate of snacks laid out on the end table—cheese, crackers, and some kind of cured meat that made Theo’s mouth water.
Another place he didn’t belong.
At this point, he was getting used to feeling like a fish out of water.
Theo sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, hands clutched tight between his knees.
The monitor glowed in front of him, casting cold blue light over the comforter and his skin. The image flickered as Andrew strolled across the screen. Coffee in hand.
Oblivious.
Theo hadn’t seen him in… forever. Same dumb backwards baseball cap. Same latte order, probably. Tattoos still bright and obnoxious, trailing down his arms like scribbles he never outgrew. The sight of him made Theo’s stomach twist. Septum ring glinting in the late summer sun. Pants too tight, as usual.
Before Jagger’s idiotic threesome idea, the two of them had been friends. College friends.Normal. Fucking. Friends.Andrew had been Theo’s first real conversation since high school.
Now, seeing him made Theo want to throw something. Or cry. Whichever.
Noah was sprawled beside him—bare legs brushing Theo’s, shiny basketball shorts making a soft swoosh each time he moved. Distracting as shit.
“Hey,” Theo said. “Weird question."
Noah’s eyes never left his phone. “Equally weird answer.”
Theo looked from the monitor to the row of spotless notebooks lined up by the television. Every one of them was labeled. Dated. Pinned with color-coded flags and weird, cutesy writing.
“What the hell do you do for work? I’ve been in Best Buys less organized than this.”
Noah rolled onto one elbow and set the phone on the end table.
“Okay, so. Technically, I’m a Collector.”
Theo snorted. “Cult, much?”
“It’s not a…” Noah trailed off. “Alright, yeah. Yeah. Maybe it is cult-ish. Long story short, I track people down. What can I say? I’m good with patterns.”
“Then what?”
“I hand them over to whatever department wants them—”
“Department?”
“Yeah,” Noah continued. Unbothered. “Sometimes it’s Development, sometimes it’s Asset Resolution… depends on who and what.”
The wordsstarted out sane and then veered off intowhat the fuckterritory.
Theo stared. “Who do you work for, exactly?”
Noah sat up. Pulled Theo into his lap, arms sliding around his waist. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of Theo’s head—then another, lower, where Theo’s hair curled near his neck.
“Max’s uncle signs my checks, but she’s my boss.”
“Max.”
“Same one you’re picturing right now.”
That didn’t help. Not even a little.
Theo exhaled through his nose. He didn’t ask anything else.
